Two Men
by Sleep-Not
Summary: Norrington's hunting a murderer, Sparrow's hunting for some peace and quiet... well, no, not really. When has Jack Sparrow ever wanted that? Their stories intertwine in this tale of Action, Adventure and above all, Piracy on the High Seas! (Not slash)
1. One Death

Two Men

Chapter 1 

I wasn't born to walk on water 

I wasn't born to sack and slaughter 

But on my soul I wasn't born 

To stoop, to scorn and knuckle under 

Her name was Annie Price, and until three days ago, she had worked at a bakery in Port Royal. Been friendly and a hard-worker, and no one had a bad word against her. She had attended church every Sunday and sent money home to England every month to help support her aged parents, who worked on a farm. She hadn't been plain, but nothing particularly special in the looks department either – she'd had a beau, John Harding, but they had been keeping their courtship entirely proper until such a time as John had finished his carpentry apprenticeship and had enough money to support them both before they became engaged. 

But three days ago, she'd been alive. Now, Annie Price was dead.

She'd left work three days ago, and vanished. John Harding and her friends had noticed very soon, and it had been reported, but only now had she been found.

Her body had come floating up in the waters, on her front so that her shoulders and the back of her head were the only parts of her not submerged. But her patterned, light green dress showed brightly through the blue waves, and if that didn't catch the fishermen's eye, the seagulls hovering and swooping definitely did. 

The fishing sketch had hauled her body out of the water, and the undertakers waiting on the docks would put her into the ground, but it was Commodore Norrington's job to catch her murderer, for murdered she had been.

On the docks, she looked more like a sack of potatoes than a person – the fish had done a lot of damage, but her dress was still mostly intact – and it highlighted what the body was lacking. 

She had no eyes, but this was not unusual in someone who had been fish food. Her hair was matted with blood from the hole in her head – but this too was not unusual; a body could easily bang against rocks on its way into the water, or even in the water itself. What was wrong, what was terribly, horribly wrong, was that her hair was not on her head - it was in it. 

She'd been scalped and then whoever had done so had stuffed that mop into her mouth after removing her tongue. 

Norrington was not surprised that Governor Swann, after hearing the preliminary report, had handed the case over to him to solve as soon as he could. Naturally, once the murderer was found, it would be up to the Governor to sentence him. 

Still, he sometimes wished that it were not part of his duties to deal with such cases - the duties of policing the Caribbean did not only extend to the capture and punishment of pirates – the Navy was the only police force the British colonies had and murders such as this were always given high priority, since the news of the gruesome murder would surely get back to England and public interest, morbid though it was, would be high. 

"You've seen her then?"

The Governor remained in his carriage, at the far end of the dock. He sounded nervous. Norrington didn't blame him; he knew the Governor was not a man of action, the world was full of men of action and it needed a few good men to keep it sane. Norrington had a hard time associating men of action with goodness, even in himself; sometimes decisions had to be made and though they had no goodness in them, they were necessary – those were the decisions men of action made, the decisions made after that by good men were simply there to repair the damage. 

"Was she very bad?" Governor Swann asked, and Norrington was glad to hear no eager morbidity in the question, though others were sure to ask because they thought murder exciting. 

Still, his reply was slightly reproving, "It is murder, Governor."

The Governor did not question his conclusion; he held Norrington's abilities in absolute trust.

"You'll see to it the murderer is found, won't you?"

The Governor's faith in his abilities always amazed him. The Caribbean was already under policed, and the killer could already be on his way to England or any number of other countries by now… 

"To the best of my abilities, sir."

"Excellent, Commodore, I trust this will not keep you from attending my ball on Friday?"

"I look forward to it, Governor." Truthfully, Norrington rarely attended balls – being too caught up by his duties – but he had made a point of attending the annual Governor's Ball ever since his interest had fallen on Elizabeth. Now, the idea of the ball felt like ashes in his mouth – for though he was man enough to realise he would never have her – that didn't stop his heart aching at the sight of her... and of his teeth grinding when he saw Turner and her together…

He had decided, after some thought, that giving up Elizabeth did not have to mean giving up on love – it would just take some time before he could be glad that she had found true happiness.  

But the Governor was a good friend, and previous balls had been enjoyable. In the meantime, he had a murder to investigate, pirates to hunt (there were always pirates to hunt, it seemed), and so many other duties that there weren't enough hours in the day to complete them. 

Author's Note: Hi all, this story (to the best of my ability) is going to be action/adventure with little to no romance. The main characters are going to be my adored Commodore Norrington and the inimitable Captain Jack Sparrow. 

Also, the chapters will probably vary in length so bear with me… ^_^

The quote at the beginning is from the Scarlet Pimpernel and I used it because I wanted to emphasise that both Betsy Pineapple (snerk – see La Pamplemousse's most amusing 'Norrington's Special Fic') and Jack (though he'd deny it) are ordinary men (hard though it may be to believe, I know). 

Reviews are always welcome, since usually I try and finish something before I post it, rather than posting chapters as they're done, and this is the first time I've done the opposite. 

The title… well, just look at whom I'm writing about… 


	2. One Act of Piracy

Two Men 

Chapter 2 

"'Good' is such a relative term…" – What Captain Jack Sparrow said to me today.

Jack Sparrow was having a really good day. 

They'd just had a prosperous run down Fortaleza way, and had spent the last week making merry in Tortuga to celebrate. Which meant that the crew were nursing hangovers and Jack was still rather drunk. They'd commandeered some fine cargo – coffee, sugar and cocoa beans – and had sold them on for good money. Jack was feeling wealthy, and there was such a supply of rum aboard that he felt secure as well; secure in the knowledge that no matter how much they drank, it wouldn't run out for at least until they could sail back into Tortuga for more. 

"Sail ho!" Came a yell from the main mast, "Dutch merchant, low in the water Cap'n!"

"Shall we risk it, Jack? We're coming awful close to Port Royal waters." Gibbs asked cautiously.

And what better way to spice up a day than to tempt fate, eh? 

"Nothin' ventured, nothin' gained." The Captain grinned mischievously. "A'right, you scallywags! Run up the ol' Rule Britannia an' prepare the cannons!"

The Black Pearl allowed the other vessel to approach them, rather than closing the distance themselves – it put the other ship more at ease if they didn't actively try to come closer, and it kept them over the horizon line from Port Royal and so didn't alert the Navy to their presence. 

The Dutch ship was carrying a lot of freight since, Jack guessed, they were making a few last sales in Caribbean ports while also stocking up for a journey back to Europe. Despite its black sails, the British flag confused the other ship enough – since they had just come from a British owned island – that they foolishly let the Pearl into hailing distance (and also firing range). 

When they were at a good angle, Jack issued his next orders, "Run out the cannons and run up the Jolly Roger, mates! Don't fire until I know they won't surrender."

Jack could see, with his telescope, the other ship's captain start swearing when he realised they were pirates – he loved watching that moment when realisation lit their faces, it amused the hell out of him. Also, he lip-read the other captain yell for a white flag of surrender to be run up. He could tell that the other man was hoping a Navy patrol would spot them, but Jack had planned the Pearl's passing Port Royal just right, and knew they had plenty of time. 

He climbed up into the rigging and prepared for his second favourite part of the raid: the speech (his favourite part was the actual 'commandeering' of treasure).

"My name's Captain Jack Sparrow, and this here's the Black Pearl! Let any man among ye lay a hand on a weapon and we'll blast you all to kingdom come. That said, surrender peaceably and you'll find I'm an easy pirate to please!"

Naturally, they all surrendered double quick when they heard who the pirate in question was – a good reputation was a handy thing.

He sent out a solid group of crewmen (and woman, since Ana Maria was among them) to transport merchandise back to the Pearl. There was a small number of passengers aboard the Dutch ship, and they were searched for precious items as well.

By the end of it, there was a handsome pile of swag on the Pearl's deck and they were sailing off into the sunset (so to speak) while the merchant ship limped back to Port Royal. 

Swag was always split into equal shares between the crew. But before the money was counted and divided, each crewmember got to pick one item they wanted to keep for themselves. Ana Maria took a brooch that had what she claimed was an emerald set in it, though Jack thought it looked more like coloured glass (but then Ana Maria threatened to slap him, again, so he shut up) and Gibbs took a nice-looking pipe. What caught Jack's eye was a long dagger. It looked kind of ceremonial, and the blade was made of some type of sharpened stone and was a little chipped, but the handle was gold with Aztec printings on it. The others laughed at his taste for Aztec treasures after all the problems they had caused for him in the past, but it appealed to him so he stuck it in his belt. And also… he wanted _something_ Aztec that wasn't bloody cursed!

They were heading for a cosy little bay, with a nice abandoned rumrunners' cache and a fresh water source for refreshing their water barrels, that was secluded but still relatively near Port Royal. Luckily the bay was also quite hard to get to – through a narrow channel and in shallow water. The island it belonged to was uninhabited and they could put up there for a couple of days while he sorted the loot. 

He was at the wheel, and a steady breeze was blowing the Pearl just where he wanted her to be going. Life couldn't get much better than this – why, he could just imagine that Dutch captain whining at the good Commodore until Norrington had that constipated, stick-up-his-ass look of irritation. And thinking of Norrington reminded him of some others… 

Because it was such a good day… just to make it really perfect… since he was in the neighbourhood… why not drop in on his dear friends, Will and Elizabeth?  

Author's Note: I love Jack. I love the way he speaks and behaves and the way he's forever doing incredibly stupid things (because he's honest, you know). And if you want to argue with me about that – why *on earth* did he decide at the very beginning of the film to try and steal (commandeer) the Intrepid, when he probably could have actually gotten away with it if he'd aimed for something a little less… _British Royal Navy_? (Ah, but as he says, it's such a pretty boat…)

I feel guilty about Miss Swann and the whelp; I was going to include them a lot more in the first draft of this fic (can you believe I actually made a first draft of this, me?!), but my flatmate (who is evil, by the way) pointed out that they'd be too busy getting married to go sailing off etc. (and didn't have to be what ended up linking Norrington's story to Jack's). 

Personally, I think she just wanted me to give more 'screen-time' to the adored Commodore and the inimitable Captain. Grin. 

Oh, and the quote? Well after all the emphasis given to the concept of 'good men' in the film, can't you just see Jack saying something like that? 


	3. One Clue

Two Men

Chapter 3

'Truth sits upon the lips of dying men.' – Matthew Arnold

It really wasn't Norrington's day, and he knew it. First the dead body was fished up from the harbour; next a merchant vessel was looted in Port Royal waters – right under his nose.

To top it off, the captain of the ship in question was claiming that none other than the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow had attacked him. Really, as if he didn't have enough to deal with without mad pirate captains.

The Dutch captain of the raided vessel, a Captain Marchal, was babbling away at him, in a mixture of English and French, where the ship had docked, and Norrington had the feeling that he was going to be stuck there all day.

"Sir," he said stiffly, "Sir, if you would please calm yourself and provide us with a list of stolen items –"

"- Le Capitaine Sparrow, and the Pearl! The bastard fils de pute took the rum – all my precious rum! Et quelqu'un a volé ma pipe, c'était un cadeau de ma femme, dammit!"

Captain Marchal was portly and very red in the face, and at that moment, Norrington was wishing with all his heart that the man would faint from stress and shut the hell up.

"Sir! If you would kindly give us a list of stolen items I will do my best to catch the brigands in question. Also any information you might have of what direction they were last seen sailing in, would be most appreciated."

Captain Marchal grumbled and moaned for a little while longer, but no one – not even Governor Swann – could resist the note of command in Norrington's voice when he really wanted to get his point across.

Norrington was sympathetic to the captain's problem; it was highly unlikely that the goods would be recuperated, and if they were it was more than probable they would be damaged. Unless the captain and the company he worked for had insured all the items aboard, they stood to lose a very large amount of money.

However, taking out your frustrations on perfectly innocent naval commanders who were only trying to help was most definitely not something he was sympathetic to. In brief, the man was trying his patience.

As was Sparrow. The very gall of the man, blatantly raiding ships so close to Port Royal. Just because he was friends with Turner and Miss Swann did not mean the Governor was going to condone every action he made – and he was really pushing it.

It would be a relief, Norrington thought to himself, yes, almost a relief to see the man hang for his crimes and then it would be up to the Devil to deal with the 'uncatchable' Captain Sparrow, and see him pay. Still, he had to admit, Sparrow had deserved his freedom that one time, if only because he'd had the chance to betray them all, and hadn't taken it. But as he'd said to Elizabeth that day he'd proposed, one good deed was not enough. No indeed, the very fact the man chose to be a pirate negated any good deeds he might perform since ultimately they were always performed with some kind of self-interest in mind.

The crew of the looted vessel were helping the passengers down onto the docks; several seemed deeply disturbed by the attack – something Norrington didn't find in the least surprising considering the attacker.

"What's wrong with him?" He asked one of the nearest crewmembers, nodding his head towards a man who'd just descended off the ship.

The man was, to put it plainly, a gibbering wreck. He kept muttering about crazy female pirates.

"Lady pirate took his belongings – he must have had some expensive possessions on him or something – hasn't been the same since."

Norrington shook his head, pirates; they truly were the parasites of society.

A call from the head of the dock pulled his attention away from the Dutch merchant ship.

"Commodore, sir!"

"What is it?"

"Mr. Hedwin says he's discovered something you might find useful."

Mr. Hedwin was the local undertaker. He'd been put in charge of Annie Price's corpse.

"I'll be right with you. Captain Marchal, I'm afraid my other duties call me away. Lieutenant Gillette will take down the particulars. I assure you we will do our utmost to see these pirates brought to justice."

It was with some inner satisfaction that he left the docks for the undertaker's – not that he would ever have admitted to finding some of his duties a chore; if they needed to be done, then by Jove he would do them... Surely to ask he enjoy them as well was going a little far though?

Entering the cool cellar where Mr. Hedwin dealt with the deceased before burial sobered his lightened spirits immediately. The young officer who'd brought him the message him had stopped at the door, intimidated by the scent of death.

"Ah, Commodore! Got something should interest you."

Hedwin looked like everybody's favourite old uncle – rosy cheeked (he was fond of the odd drop of port), twinkling eyes (that could size a man up in under a minute – for his coffin and for his character) and a bushy moustache that bristled as if it had a life of its own.

People were often disconcerted to find he was an undertaker – for the profession was regarded with a mixture of fear and need, and even, in some cases, an underlying hatred.

Norrington had become acquainted with Hedwin when a series of crimes against the undertaker had required Navy assistance. Hedwin's shop was almost burnt down but the perpetrators were stopped in time and Norrington had found in the undertaker an unlikely ally. His manner was off-putting considering his profession, but Norrington appreciated his cheerfulness in the face of human mortality and his blunt advice, which was rarely wrong when concerning the manner of death.

"Dead from shock, poor dear, long before she was dumped in the water. Got her tongue first – so she couldn't scream. He'd her tied down so she couldn't struggle too much – look, you can see the bruises from the ropes."

Norrington nodded. You could indeed make out bruises on pale skin.

"You think it was a man?"

"Probably, probably – young healthy girl like that could have put up quite a fight against someone her own strength... but there's nothing much to show for it on her.

Stunned her quick like and got her under control before she came round. That's what I wanted to talk t'you about."

"What have you found?"

"Murderer cracked her skull when he hit her. And it made it harder for him when he scalped her – look, I found these. They're either from the weapon he used to hit her, or from the weapon used to scalp her."

Hedwin had deposited two slivers of black rock into a little enamel bowl. He turned them over with a needle for Norrington to have a better look.

"See the sharp edge? My bet's on the scalping knife."

"It wasn't metal? Do you recognise the material?"

"No-o, seems familiar though, don't it?"

"They couldn't be from rocks she banged against underwater?"

"It's a possibility, of course, but I don't know of any rocks like this round Port Royal. Unless he killed her somewhere else and the tide brought her in."

The evidence was interesting, but it brought up more questions than it answered. He thanked the undertaker and made his way, blinking, out into the sunlight. They would be burying the girl soon. It was too hot and humid in the Caribbean to even consider keeping her longer for further examination.

He walked back to the fort, deep in thought. Just as he was arriving a shout went up from one of the watchtowers and a marine ran over with the news a pirate ship had been sighted.

"The Black Pearl?"

"We're not certain, sir. She's rather far off."

He headed up to the battlements, avoided looking at the side where Elizabeth had fallen and Sparrow had tripped and both had somehow escaped him with an unconsciousness born of much practice.

The telescope didn't help much; the ship was disappearing again over the horizon.

"You're certain it was a pirate vessel?"

"Yessir, saw the Jolly Roger, sir." A watchman confirmed.

"Do you wish to pursue, sir?" Lieutenant Baxter asked, he was new to his rank and Norrington had left him in charge of the fort partly as a test of his abilities and partly because the more experienced marines wouldn't let him make too many grave mistakes.

"They'll already be out of Port Royal waters, Baxter. Another day."

"Yes sir."

Baxter would do all right, Norrington thought, he wasn't some eager inexperienced fool ready to abandon his post over the mere sighting of an unknown ship.

And Friday was tomorrow, Norrington suddenly remembered. The ball... he felt incredibly weary for a moment. He nodded to Lieutenant Baxter and made his way down to his office. Could he beg off attendance because of too much work? The Governor would no doubt do that kicked-puppy look he'd obviously learnt from his clever daughter. It would be fun, he reminded himself, there'd be dancing (and no one he wanted to dance with), he'd see Elizabeth (and Turner)... no, he should go. Better to face these things now than let them beat him down. Deal with the feelings and move on. He was going to the ball... whether he liked it or not.

TBC

Author's Note: Can you imagine Cinderella's fairy godmother threatening her until she went to the ball? Norrington doesn't _need _a godmother – it's all in his own head! Ah, my poor adored Commodore! Don't worry, the inimitable Captain will surely cheer you up (pictures Jack doing so, and shivers).

I'm sorry I've taken so long to update – I'm a lazy so-and-so, that I am. The sequel's supposed to come out in 2006, right? Hah! I've still got time! (runs from axe-wielding friends)

The quote's supposed to refer to the evidence fragments found in Annie Price's skull... hmm, not all that much truth yet... Perhaps I need some more dying men.


End file.
